Five Years
by icarus abides
Summary: Five years after the deal, will they keep their promise?
1. Default Chapter

Five Years  
  
Ice Queen  
  
Rating: PG-13 for now (language) but might become R later  
  
Spoilers/Pairings: Of course for Yea Baby and then little ones for Boomerang and Measure of Men; Obviously a H/M story  
  
Disclaimer: Dude, of course I don't own JAG (if I did Harm and Mac would have gotten together a LONG time ago and I would have A LOT more money than I have). All rights belong to CBS and Bellasarous Productions or whatever, those lucky dogs.  
  
Comments: Please send feedback. If you hate it then I won't write more, and if ya like it then let me know so I don't give up.  
  
Five Years  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Five years.  
  
That's how long it's been since the deal. Not just any deal. I'm talking about THE deal. She and I stood out in front of JAG Headquarters five years ago to the day, watching Harriet and newborn little AJ pull away in the ambulance.  
  
Five years.  
  
Sometimes I wanted to smack myself for making it five years instead of three, or hell, even one! Jesus Christ, five years is an eternity. Especially when it was waiting for a chance to be with her. Each day at work I would sit near her and wish that I could have her then. Right then. Not in five years. Other days I wanted to bang my head against the wall for making it only five years. Five years? When I made that promise I obviously wasn't thinking ahead to what the future me would have to deal with. Anticipation of course, but also a good bit of hesitation and fear. Fear that I would screw things up and lose the one person in the world who meant everything to me.  
  
Five years.  
  
Now I am standing awkwardly outside of her apartment door. I'm not wearing anything, special just nice pants and shirt, and I didn't bring any flowers or anything. Shit. Should I have brought her something? No, that would be too weird. I have to keep this as comfortable as possible. Oh hell, who am I kidding? I don't even know if she remembers the deal that we made. And if she doesn't... well, I'll certainly feel like an ass.  
  
I still haven't rung the doorbell yet. A part of me wants to (a large part). But then there's that little voice (probably implanted in my sleep by Brumby or something) that tells me to turn around and haul ass to home. I hear a knock on her door and look around. No one else is in the hallway. Then who the hell...? I see my hand still raised up to knock on the door. Damn! I hate it when my thinking distracts my brain from my actions. A part of me is relieved that this first hurdle of just getting inside her apartment has already been decided. In the back of my head, the Brumby implant keeps yelling at me to run before she can spot me out there. She'll think it was just someone playing Doorbell Dixie or something right. Screw it. If things go bad then I can always chicken out as usual and play it off like I showed up for no big reason. Just to see her. That little annoying Brumby character in my head whispers that that's the spirit. I've always whoosied out before so why  
should now be any different.  
  
I tell him to shut the hell up.  
  
I've listened to him a lot in the past years. Stupid bastard. But wait... if he's a part of my subconscious did I just call myself a stupid bastard? Damn it! I'm going to do it this time. I may not have been able to do it at Sydney Harbor (the best and worst ferry ride of my entire life) or on the Guadalcanal (I would give it all up in a heartbeat) but I am going to do it this time goddamnit! That large part that is always pushing me to tell her how I feel applauds my decision. I feel slightly relieved. That is... until the door to the apartment opens. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
Five years.  
  
It's been five years since we've made that promise. The deal that has always been in the back of my mind every time that I'm alone with him. The promise reminds me that if we go through with it, we'll go halves on a kid.  
  
"With your looks and my brains, he'll be perfect."  
  
"And what if SHE has your looks and my brains?"  
  
"That could work too."  
  
For the past five years I have replayed that conversation dozens of times. At the time, it was so lighthearted and when he said that he hadn't made a promise that he couldn't keep, I had laughed it off. The deal was if neither of us was in a serious relationship. Who would've thought that we'd be like this now? I'm a good-looking woman who has no problem meeting guys. And he... well, what woman in her right mind can't resist dress whites and gold wings? It's certainly taken some self-control on my part. And that smile of his can melt most female hearts into little puddles of goo. Who would've thought that we'd BOTH be single at this point? And neither of us are close to being in a serious relationship. After Mic, I couldn't get deeply involved with anyone. I still can't. And Harm's relationships? I don't know what his problem is, but it seems like he stopped trying a lot once Renee left.  
  
I kind of hope that he will show up here. Maybe he'd be really romantic about it, bring flowers or something to make it like a real date. But that would probably become really awkward. But part of me doesn't want him to show up. Then things won't become weird and we can continue to work closely just like the past years.  
  
Who am I kidding? Every bit of my body wants him to show up at the front door. Wants him to come inside, whisk me off my feet, and carry me off into the bedroom. Ok, so maybe I've been hearing too many of those fairy tales with happy endings. I did have to watch Snow White about a thousand times last weekend when I babysat little AJ. Apparently he has some odd fascination with the dwarves and wants to be one when he grows up. I told him that he might want to explore other career paths. Mining dwarves are not really in high demand these days.  
  
Will he (Harm, not little AJ or the dwarves, duh) show up? Oh my god! What of he does? What the hell am I going to say? Something along the lines of `Alright Squid, time to jump in the sack!' just doesn't seem right to me.  
  
Damnit! What time is it? God, I'm so stressed out over this even my internal clock has been screwed up. Well, from the looks of the sky, it looks like it's getting kind of late. And he's still not here. Looks like I've been getting riled up over nothing. Wait a minute! What if he expects me to come over to his place? Harm has always been a chicken when it comes to showing emotions. Why should he change now? Should I go over to his place? If this opportunity passes by and I don't try my damnedest to take advantage of it, I know that I'm going to be beating myself up about it later. And if I get over there and it turns out that he doesn't remember and I'm just an obsessed, emotion-driven, lonely idiot then I'll just tell him that I hadn't stopped by for any actual reason. Just to see him. Now where are my shoes?  
  
What was that sound? Did someone just knock on my door? I can't breathe. If it's him, I swear that I'm going to pass. But he might just here to talk about something else. Yea, that must be it. We're working on about four cases together right now. That's got to be why he's here. He'll show up with his briefcase full of files and we'll order pizza and joke around as usual. All right, here goes. Breathe in... breathe out... and open the door.  
  
Oh shit.  
  
He doesn't have a briefcase. 


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry that this is kinda short but juggling this and term paper is sort of difficult. I'll try to get more written soon :^)  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Oh God! What the hell is that funky look on her face for? I don't think that I can do this. From the way she's looking at me, I don't think that she wants me here. Well, I guess it's time for a hasty retreat. C'mon feet move! Sheesh! When I don't want my hand not to knock, it does; but the minute I try to get my legs to respond... nothing. Hold on a minute. She's inviting me inside.  
  
Well Mac, it's nice to see that you've recovered from your little bit of surprise (Or perhaps that expression was shock or fear or something along those lines. Maybe she remembered this day after all? Hey! I can hope can't I?)  
  
"Mac, you feeling OK? You don't look so good." Wow, great opening line Harm. Eat your heart out Casanova. Sometimes I just want to knock myself out with an idiot stick for saying things like that.  
  
"Excuse me?" Oops. Now she looks kind of pissed off. I should have let her start things off. Too late now I guess. Rule number one when dealing with women: they ALWAYS look good (See also: No honey, that dress doesn't make you look fat.) and never offend a woman's appearance right off the bat if you want to have a nice, meaningful conversation.  
  
"You...you just had this funny look on your face. I was just wondering if everything was all right."  
  
"Oh. Yea, sure everything's fine." She noticeably more relaxed than she was from my first comment. Nice save Don Juan.  
  
"Do you want some coffee or tea or something?" Beverages? Is she nuts?! I can't even think of ingesting anything at this point. I'm so nervous that I can give pretty even odds that whatever goes down is coming back up pretty soon after.  
  
"Umm... no thanks Mac." Look at that lovely molding and that cabinet (is that new?). Ho hum. Doo doo doo. I should really stop wasting time. Just... can't ... bring... myself... to... start... Grrrrrrrrr...  
  
OH! There we go. She just asked it. She just asked the million-dollar question.  
  
"So Harm... why exactly are you here?"  
  
I can SO do this.  
  
*****************************  
  
No briefcase.  
  
Shit.  
  
So what now? Invite him in. Invite him in? Am I nuts? Well, I can't damn well leave him standing outside much longer. He looks like he's getting kind of antsy. And that expression on his face.... What the hell is that about? I wish that he would stand still, he's making me more nervous. And right now, there is NO room for that. His feet keep twitching (Ya know like those Looney Tunes where the character's feet move but they don't go anywhere?).  
  
"C'mon in Harm."  
  
No, don't come in... yes, do... no, don't... shut up! Breathe Sarah, deep breaths. You're a Marine for Christ's sake! Shape up!  
  
What's he talking about now? I look like what? I must have had some look on my face because now he's trying to worm his way out of that comment. Back-peddle any faster buddy and you'll trip over yourself. I really don't mind though. Any other time I might care about that comment but not tonight. It just doesn't seem important. However, if it turns out that he isn't here to talk about "it", then we will definitely be returning to the fact that he dissed on me a mere 1.4 seconds after I invited him in.  
  
"Do you want some coffee or tea or something?" Okay, okay! I know I'm stalling but I just can't help it. Please be thirsty Harm, and maybe hungry too.  
  
"Umm... no thanks Mac." Of COURSE he doesn't want anything! Has to make things so damn difficult. That would have given me time to get my thoughts together and figure out what I was going to say to him. But nooooo... the illustrious Harmon Rabb just wants me to stand right here, right in front of him. Here, he can see every thought that I have. He has this "thing", actually we both have it, where we can just look at one another and see if something's wrong. He could probably see my nervousness now too, if he would actually look at my face. But instead he seems to be... admiring my furniture? What the hell is he doing?  
  
"So Harm... why exactly are you here?"  
  
Did I just say that? I HAVE to stop doing that! First it was with Sturgis...  
  
"It won't work."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because I'm in love with him."  
  
... and now with Harm? I CANNOT keep speaking before I think. Especially not here with him. Not now. He's looking at me now. Umm... ya know that look "thing" that I was just referring too? Well, it's happening right now. I know why he's here.  
  
I don't know how it's possible but I think that I just simultaneously cursed and celebrated in my head. It's probably something along the lines of "Shi-ay!"  
  
I don't know what to do. Stand still body! I'm fidgeting around like a gerbil on Prozac. But he still hasn't answered my question yet. Yes Flyboy.....? I'm waiting..... 


	4. Chapter 4

ARGH! I hate writer's block, don't you?  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Okey dokey. So I can play this one of several ways. One: Sweep her off her feet and carry her off to the bedroom. Err... that's probably a bad idea. She is a Marine after all. She would almost certainly beat me so bad that I wouldn't be physically able to carry out this thing. Nope, I have to sit down and talk to her first. Eww.. talking. In case you haven't realized, I am NOT the `talking' type. So that leaves two options. I can either act really embarrassed about the whole thing and try to play it off as a spur of the moment type of deal or I can actually go through with this. My head saying to do the first one but certain other parts of my anatomy are opting for the latter.  
  
`C'mon mate, let's go home.' Oh GREAT! And on top of everything, I've still got "him" in my head. Peachy.  
  
"So uhh.. while I was working earlier I happened to realize what the date is today..."  
  
I trail off and risk a glance at her face. For a second, I think I see something (recognition?) on it. But then it's gone.  
  
"And is there something important about it?" She's looking at me now and as I look back, I know that she knows. And she knows that I know that she knows. Ok, I'm stuck. So she DOES know. At least I have that fact. But now does she want to go through with it as much as I do or is she just waiting for me to make an ass of myself? So complicated...  
  
`Your problem is that you make simple things complicated.'  
  
`You make complicated things too simple.'  
  
"Well, umm..." Oh God. I'm a lawyer for Christ's sake. Lawyers are manipulators of the English language. Yet somehow, I just can't find any... simple way to get this out. Simple. Why can't I be Mac sometimes so that I can learn how to make things simple? All right, I got this. Simplify, don't complicate.  
  
"Looks like our five years is up. Are we going to be able to keep that promise?"  
  
***************  
  
Oh my God. I was all prepared for him to get into this whole long conversation before finally getting to that. Something along the lines of "So today is little AJ's fifth birthday. What did you get him?" and wait for the inevitable issue to arrive. My, my, my, this Squid continues to surprise me. After eight years of working with a person you think that you would know him well enough to know what they were going to do right? Wrong. Harmon Rabb Junior has just done the unthinkable. He has actually simplified something in regards to us... whatever this "us" may be.  
  
I know that before he was at a loss for words, I could almost hear the wheels turning as he tried to figure out what to say to me. But now I'm speechless. And I think that I can feel my jaw sitting next to my foot as it lies on the floor. I snap it shut, but not quickly enough because he looks quite amused at the reaction that his comment made. Cheeky bastard.  
  
Maybe he's just testing the waters. That's what he always does. If I look like I don't want to, then he can just laugh it off with a "I'm kidding. Gotcha Marine." That's probably what he's expecting too. Har dee har har. Well how about this one Buddy Boy...  
  
"I haven't made a promise yet that I couldn't keep."  
  
I'm wondering how far we're going to get down this road before we reach that infamous Red Light. And if it happens to come up soon, I may just be earning a traffic ticket by running it. The only thing that can stop me now is the brick wall of his defenses. I wonder if he's thinking the same thing about me.  
  
And now it's his turn to look surprised as I watch him pull his jaw shut.  
  
"So... you're okay with...," he motions back and forth between us, "this?"  
  
Oh, man. I am WAY more than okay with it. I don't think that I've ever wanted a `this' more in my entire life.  
  
"If you are."  
  
Uh oh. It looks like maybe we've gone too far too fast. His mind is starting to process everything that's going on and it doesn't look like all good conclusions. I can see little builders starting to construct a brick wall on my Red Light Highway. Think Sarah think. He's thinking too much. God, why does he always have to make things so complicated?  
  
So I lean over and kiss him.  
  
*************  
  
Whoa! Mac's kissing me!  
  
Whoo hoo! Mac's kissing me! Sweet...  
  
I am beyond glad that we don't have to do that whole talking thing. At least not right now. I can do it later. But right now I'm so nervous that I would have no clue of what to say to her. Even though I want to tell her how much I think of her, how badly I want to hold her sometimes, how... shut up fool! Sarah Mackenzie is kissing you and all you can do is talk to yourself. Oy! And what a kiss it is! No matter how many times I dreamt about her kisses, never in my dreams could her lips be this soft. And her mouth... the tastes of cinnamon and chocolate overwhelm me. I need to breathe, but I don't want to break this kiss and come up for air.  
  
Against my better judgement, I pull her tighter into the embrace and she instantly responds by relaxing into me. I'm on my back now with her on top of me. Air... must have air...  
  
I can feel myself beginning to pass out (the combine result of the lack of oxygen and the fact that I have just gotten to second base with Mac) and just then she pulls slightly back. Oh, I miss her lips on mine already! Damn it. Breathe. Ya know, I don't remember ever having to tell myself to breathe when kissing someone. She is definitely holding all the cards in this ordeal. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
  
  
There is no way that I'm going to be able to look at those lips the same way again. Or those eyes… or those legs… Not that I didn't look at them before. I've almost fallen out of my chair several times doing that whole leaning-back-to-catch-a-glimpse-of-Mac-through-the-doorway routine. But then again, maybe if I'd whacked my head, I'd have had some more of those wonderful visions. I swear to God that I will never be able to look at my bath towels the same way again. How I'm going to be able to walk through the office and not jump her after this may be considered the Eighth Wonder of the World.  
  
Her face is in front of mine and I can taste her breath mingling with my own. As much as I want to reach out and reclaim those lips, I hold myself back. Down boy.  
  
"Harm," she asks softly. There's an underlying huskiness in her voice. I can't even begin to describe how much that turns me on even more. Wait, she's waiting. She's waiting for me to say something. Damn, she's just as nervous about this 'thing' as I am. This is the last chance. The last chance to bail out. Well, technically I could bail out later but trust me, if it goes beyond this point there is no chance of my hormones pulling out.  
  
"No regrets Sarah." God, just saying her name reminds me of just how beautiful she is. My hand reaches out to gently cup the side of her face. Her eyes close and she leans gently into my caress. Her lips are still parted slightly and I can feel her exhale a small sigh onto my palm. If this isn't a Hallmark moment, I don't know what is. I wish that I had a camera to capture her picture now. Even if this 'thing' doesn't go any further (yea right, over my dead body), if I could see this image every day of my life until I die, I think that I would go a happy man. Of course, a picture is one thing. Actions are something else entirely.  
  
Her lips are on mine again. Damn, but this girl is passionate. Her lips are pressing into mine and again I have to remind my body to work and kiss her back. It's like electric, this thing between us, and I think that I've just short-circuited about half of my brain in the last minute. All those people that point fingers at drugs and alcohol causing brain damage have OBVIOUSLY never been kissed by Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. My tongue dips in to her mouth, exploring, trying to drink up as much of her as I can. I can't believe that we've waited this long. Her hands are running across my stomach, clinging to my upper arms and shoulders. I can't help but bring my arms around her back and pull her even closer to me.  
  
It's official. The testosterone has taken over and my body is merely a slave to its power. Not that I mind, mind you.  
  
  
  
********  
  
  
  
I had to be sure of course. That's why I stopped a few minutes ago. I don't know what I would do if I woke up tomorrow morning and he tried to back away from this. I don't know what I'd do if 'this' scared him off. So I had to ask him.  
  
And when he said my name… God, I thought I was going to die. They were going to need to rush me to the ER there for a minute when I actually felt my heart stop beating. I am so in love. How did we let it go on this long? Why did it take us so long? What were we thinking? Why the HELL am I asking myself all these questions now when he's lying in wait underneath me?  
  
I kiss him again. More than seven years of wishing, of wanting, of waiting, all flow into one kiss. I can tell that he's surprised and caught off guard for a moment. I hope that's just because I'm so damn enticing and not because he's having second thoughts (yet again). Whoa! Never mind. It's not the latter. It's DEFINITELY not the latter. Ya know, usually I'm not the kind of person who likes that whole tongue-in-mouth frenzied passion. But somehow I just can't picture it any other way right now. Maybe next time (man oh man, PLEASE let there be a next time!) we can take things loving and slow and everything. But now… there's nothing that I want to do more than rip off his clothes and feel his skin against mine, to rub my hands along his body and feel his heated kisses against my skin. The only thing that keeps me in control is the strictest of my Marine training. Harm should be thanking his lucky stars right now that I'm a Marine. He has no idea the trouble that he would be in if I weren't.  
  
I guess I'll have to make due with some clothes for now. But my hands still claw at his shirt, trying to move it upward and over his head. Maybe that's the magic touch because his arms that were holding loosely onto my back tighten so suddenly that I almost get all of the air knocked out of me. Now that's more like it…well, except that I'm going to need to come up for a breath in a few seconds. But I can only deal with one problem at a time.  
  
Now, about these clothes…  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
I am becoming increasingly aware of a problem in my life.  
  
Oh, you mean your ego problem? Your fear of commitment? Your spineless nature when it comes to talking about feelings and relationships? Shut UP Brumby! I pray every night that he gets eaten by dingoes. Really, I do.  
  
Okay, so maybe I do have a few… difficulties in my life. Cerebral Brumby laughs at my admittance of weakness. I ignore him.  
  
Actually, my most specific problem at this particular moment is the realization that this couch that Mac and I are currently on is going to become very uncomfortable when things really get going. I can just imagine myself trying to turn her onto her back and me sliding right off to the floor. Wow, now that would be a great story to tell the kid (or kids?).  
  
The voice comes back to chastise me again. 'Who are you kidding? You just want to be in control. Always got to be on top (no pun intended) don't you Harm?' Even I can't argue with that. After all, lose control in my world and you die. But, as Mac had pointed out before, I'm not flying a Tomcat here. Actually, this was probably the only thing that I'd rather do than fly. Although, I have the feeling that it's going to fell like we're flying later.  
  
I pull away from her. Her eyes connect with mine, burning, as we both try to catch our breath after that last lip lock. Even through the haze of passion in her eyes, I can still make out just a flicker of confusion behind them. She doesn't understand why I pulled away. I smile to reassure her and lean forward to nudge her nose with mine.  
  
She arches an eyebrow, trying unsuccessfully to suppress a grin, "Eskimo kisses Harm?" It nice to see that we still have a sense of humor. Things haven't gotten weird between us because of this and I hope that it will continue to be that way. A little voice, not Brumby thank God, tells me that I knew that all along. Every time that I said that Mac and I couldn't get together because it would ruin our relationship as friends and working partners, this voice would scream obscenities at my for such a bullshit excuse. I locked him away several years ago so I wouldn't have to listen. Now though, I feel almost guilty as his I-was-right-and-you-were- wrong tone mocks me.  
  
"Maybe we should move this somewhere else," I suggest. She knows exactly what I'm thinking (as usual) and moves her arms in position to push herself up off the couch. Before I can think, I reach up and swiftly pull her head down to mine. One last touch of lips before our bodies break apart. This kiss, unlike everything that's happened so far, is gentler. It's almost not a kiss at all, the faintest whisper of one. All the feelings that pushed our actions so urgently are held in check. She's the one that breaks it this time and it's a good thing too. Once again, Captain Testosterone is in control. At this rate, we might have to settle for the floor in her living room.  
  
Settle for the floor? No way. Mac…Sarah shouldn't have to settle for anything.  
  
She pushes herself up and off of me. With her body absent from mine, I suddenly feel chilled. I also realize that a significant amount of my blood flow has... how should I put this…. Journeyed south. If she noticed, she doesn't seem to mind though. Mac takes a step toward the bedroom, then stops, turns, and looks down at me. I'm still on the couch. Get up you idiot! I'm mesmerized. Her hair is tousled from my hands, her lips bruised from our previous lip war, her shirt pulled up slightly showing a hint of her fabulous stomach. God, how I wish that I could run my hands across that, kiss my way up from there to her mouth… but wait a minute. I can do that. That thought gives my body all the motivation it needs to get up from the couch and go after her. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
  
  
It must be a guy thing.  
  
It's that thing where it takes the body a few minutes to catch up with the mind. I would say that the opposite is true too (where the mind has to catch up with the body) but that's true for both sexes. Trust me. I know from experience. Like that time with Sturgis…  
  
'It won't work.'  
  
'Why not?'  
  
'Because I'm in love with him.'  
  
It must be a guy thing. That explains why he's still sitting on the couch with that stupefied expression on his face. As if he doesn't know what was going on. Wasn't he the one who had just suggested moving to another place? Click. I can almost see the lights go on in the attic. His brain starts working again and he stands up. I turn around to walk and feel his arms snake quickly around my waist, pulling me back into him. His arousal is growing more and more obvious by the second and I can feel it as we mold together. Obviously, he's in no hurry to get to the bedroom any time soon. His arms are wrapped around me, moving slowly around and my hands follow his movements, working up and down his lower arms. His mouth is taking advantage of my exposed neck, starting in the back and working around to the front. God, that feels good. It's all I can do to hold back my moan of approval. I don't know about him but I have to get to the bed now. I'm not sure if my legs (which have about the same consistency as jelly right about now) are going to be able to hold me up for much longer.  
  
I keep stepping to the other room almost dragging him along with me. He's concentrating so hard that he's forgetting to keep walking. Yet another reminder of why women should be the dominant sex. We can multitask. Men, on the other hand, can only dream of doing more than one thing at once.  
  
We finally reach the bed (and by FINALLY, I'm referring to the eight plus years not the ten minutes from the couch to get to here). My knees hit the edge and buckle, sending me on to my back. Now he's on top and his weight, pushing down on me, is a welcome pressure. I break off the kiss just long enough to pull his shirt up in an attempt to get it over his head. But I'm so impatient though that I don't even wait for the shirt to get completely off his head before I claim his lips again with my own.  
  
And there goes the shirt, tossed down to some unknown location on my bedroom floor. Now his hands are fumbling for the edges of mine. Why, oh why, (of all nights) didn't I wear one that could be unbuttoned or unzipped? Our lips have to break contact again as my sweater is discarded, presumably joining his shirt. I'm not really paying attention to all those minute details at this point. There are more pressing matters at hand. Namely, his unclothed skin pressing hotly against mine.  
  
I need more hands. I know, sometimes I say that at work when there are too many files to carry or to many things to type up, but seriously, I REALLY need more hands. Right now. The two that I have have found there way to his back and are running up and down the length of it. One comes up as far as his neckline to push his lips more firmly to mine, and the other goes down as far as… well, I make it stop at the top of his jeans, regardless of how much farther down I actually want it to go.  
  
After all, I'm in control of the situation.  
  
  
  
*************  
  
  
  
She's trying to kill me.  
  
She must be. That's the only explanation for why she's doing this to me. I felt as her hands went down my back only to stop just short of where I wanted them to. That cheeky witch. This is torture, plain and simple.  
  
And she knows it.  
  
If that's the way she wants to do it. We can play by her rules, but this is definitely my game. I reach one hand around to her back, unhooking the clasp and shedding off another piece of clothing that separates us. Without warning, we both stop. I know why she stopped. It's the same reason that I did.  
  
Our two bare chests push against one another. Already, a sheen layer of sweat coats both of our bodies. It's probably more from anticipation and excitement than from our actual actions thus far. I can feel the heat rising from between us. Her heart beats strong and its steady rhythm almost matches my own. I just want to lie here and feel it.  
  
After eight years, it's finally happening. I almost can't believe it. I would pinch myself but to do that I'd have to take my hands off of her, which is a definite "No". I trust that I'm not dreaming. Besides, my dreams about her never, EVER have been this good. And trust me when I say that some of them have been rather… creative.  
  
Her lips seek mine once again and her almost animalistic passion surprises the hell out of me. I mean, I've never thought of Mac as the submissive romantic lovey-dovey type but I didn't expect her to be like this either. Then again, she HAS been a surprise to me from the moment we met.  
  
I don't know how this has happened but I'm missing my pants. I'm not complaining but I've just realized that I'm missing my pants. Damn she's good. I try to strip them off of her as easily as she did with me but no dice. I have to pull her and myself up since I'm lying on top of her. Ya know what? Screw it. I'm doing everything at once. Forget this whole remove-one-item-of-clothing-at-a-time thing. In one fluid move I pull off both pieces of clothing (yes, pants AND panties) from her lower body.  
  
Her hands sneak around to the sides of my hips and my boxers slide off as well. She's so sneaky.  
  
Oh my God.  
  
I'm lying one hundred percent, completely and absolutely, buck naked on top of an equally nude Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. 


	7. Chapter 7

This is definitely the part of the story that takes a turn to the R rating. So leave now little kiddies and all those who may not want to read such things.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 7  
  
  
  
Ya know… I've always had this sneaky suspicion that Harm's been compensating for something by flying those Tomcats. Let me just say now for the record how utterly and completely wrong I was. But then again, it's not what you've got… it's how you use it. Know what I mean?  
  
His hips grind down against me and I instinctively arch up to meet him. I capture his lips in mine and pull, hard, until I finally let go and leave him gasping for breath. His defenses are down. Time to take full advantage of my position. I flip him quickly over onto his back. Damn, but that Marine training can come in handy in more ways than one. He doesn't seem to mind our new position and it's my turn to grind my hips suggestively against his. He gasps loudly and I can see as he works to hold himself back. Little by little my Flyboy's losing control. Well, good. We can do all of that romantic stuff some other time. You know what I need right now? Some good ol' hot, wild, passionate sex. Yes, that's right. It may sound kind of shallow but it's the truth.  
  
His hands travel up and down the length of my back, burning their pattern into my heated skin. I can't suppress the moan that escapes me as his lips travel down my neck to my collarbone and the valley between my breasts. He stops going down, mainly because it is physically impossible for him to bend down any further in our current position, and stalls on the skin of my chest. Every feathery touch of his lips threatens to send me over the edge that I am already coming dangerously close to. He stops his bombardment of mouth caresses and looks up at me. I catch his eyes (those gorgeous crystal eyes that I get lost in almost every time that I look at them; how was I able to resist that patented Harmon Rabb charm for so long?) and understand that he wants more room.  
  
I nod slightly and he smiles. I said once that that smile probably gets him everything that he wants. Boy, was I right. Now I'm on my back again and he continues his assault.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
  
Thank God that she agreed to flip back over. I don't know what I would've done if I had to be pinned beneath her body for much longer. Not only am I one of those people who want… no, who NEED to have room to move around, but I couldn't stand the feeling of her body on mine. It was making me crazy. It was bad enough to feel her entire naked body pushed up against mine, but to not be able to move myself across her was AGONIZING.  
  
I kiss my way down her chest and her flat stomach. She squirms impatiently and I look up, grinning wickedly. I change my expression to one of innocence and shrug my shoulders. "What?"  
  
She giggles (Oh my God, I can die now. I've just heard Sarah Mackenzie giggle. With the possible exception of her moans, her laughter is definitely the most beautiful sound that I've ever heard.). "Get back up here Sailor."  
  
"Yes mam." After all, who can deny a face like that? Our lips lock yet again and our tongues battle for dominance. Even when we're in the bedroom, we still can't let the competition drop. But I have to admit that I like it… I like it a lot. No woman has ever challenged me as much as this Marine and to be in bed with someone as strong willed as myself is invigorating. I have the suspicion that she feels the same way. The lip lock breaks and she pulls her head back slightly.  
  
"Please Harm. Now." She nods at me, still gasping for breath from our most recent kiss. I know how much she hates to ask and this is probably the only time that I will hear her do it. But I don't mind. I know exactly how she feels. The control that both of us usually find within ourselves in slowly ebbing away.  
  
It's moments like this when I wish that I could stop time. The exact moment when two people become one, when there is no longer her and me, only us. That's how we are right now. I could hear her sharp intake of breath as I entered her and almost stopped, thinking that I was hurting her. I couldn't bear the thought of anything that I did making her uncomfortable. But apparently I wasn't harming her at all because instead of stopping she took her legs, which had somehow become linked around my thighs, and used them to pull herself closer to me. Now completely engulfed in one another, we both have to pause, our ragged pants for air the only sound, as we adjust to our new situation.  
  
She begins to set the rhythm (surprise, surprise…) and I quickly strive to match it. Oh man, I'm so close to the edge already. I've got to focus on something else. Something other than the beautiful… dynamic… sexy… stop it! Something else… something more mundane - something that is not Sarah Mackenzie. Because God only knows how fast I will lose it if I keep focusing on only her. Our lips find one another yet again as the rhythm between us continues to escalate. I can feel and taste every breath that she gasps into my mouth at every one of my thrusts. So perhaps I have just a teeny bit of an ego problem ('Oh, just a teeny bit mate?' Brumby taunts) but I would like to have this encounter last for more than ten seconds. I mean, God, this is the woman that I've lusted after for years! No way am I going to blow this. Not now.  
  
Okay, okay… think unsexy thought…umm…. Politics. Can't get much more non-sexy than that can I? Alright… Rose Garden… White House… Congress… Cabinet… Janet Reno… Ack! That's just TOO non-sexy! I want to prolong my drive, not kill it. Underneath me, Mac does a wicked twist with her hips and I can't hold back my groan at the feelings that surge through me. God! How the hell did she learn that one? Do women have a handbook for these types of things or what? She smiles slyly at me and repeats the action. I'm more prepared for it this time though and grind my hips back down against her in a similar fashion. She closes her eyes, echoing my moan of pleasure. Once again, I have to hold myself in check at the sight of her.  
  
Alright, let's try this again. How about sports? The summer Olympics were on a bit ago. Baseball… gymnastics… swimming… Mac swimming… Mac swimming naked… with little rivers of water running down her soft, supple body right down to her… Okay, this is clearly not working as well as I had hoped.  
  
But it doesn't matter much now by this point anyway. I can feel that she's as close to the edge as I am. She clings on to me, pulling me even tighter to her (if that's even possible). Then she's there, arching her back up with her head thrown back, a silent scream coming from her mouth. I feel her clench around me, then shudder as the waves wrack her body and begin to subside. With one final motion, I follow her with a climax of my own, whispering a moan of "Sarah" into her ear as we both collapse on to the bed, exhausted after mere minutes of sex but eight years of foreplay.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
  
As the sensations sent me over the edge, I saw the stars explode. If the world had ended, if the four horsemen of the Apocalypse had ventured into the world and stopped the very breath of humanity, I can honestly say that I would have died a happy woman. An incredibly happy and completely satiated woman.  
  
As luck would have it though, the world didn't end just then and I am able to bathe in the comfortable aftermath of our lovemaking. I have yet another revision to make to my thoughts on Harmon Rabb Jr. – dress whites and gold wings are definitely not highly over rated. At least not from what I've just experienced.  
  
He rolls off of me and pulls me with him, until we are both lying on our sides facing one another. I can't help but smile at the expression on his face. He seems almost embarrassed and I barely refrain from commenting on how the 'invincible, fearless top gun' can be shaken by anything. One of his hands reaches out to my face and he uses one finger to lightly trace along my lips. His hand moves to under my chin, his thumb now resting on my lower lip. He smiles slightly at me, not that patented Flyboy smile of his but one that's pretty close to it. I almost don't catch the look in his eye.  
  
"What?" I question softly.  
  
"Nothing." He replies, trying to smile completely. But somehow, it just doesn't meet his eyes.  
  
"Harm." I say his name forcefully, almost as a command. I really don't mean to but it just happens that way anyway.  
  
He sighs, knowing that I'm not going to let him get away that easily. "I have a confession to make." I raise an eyebrow questioningly at this. He wants to do this now? Of all times? He sighs again, as if preparing himself for something. "First of all, I just want your assurance now that any… third party which may be mentioned hereafter, will not incur the wrath of one Marine Colonel named Sarah Mackenzie." I nod, puzzled.  
  
He doesn't seem to take my reaction seriously because he adds a "Mac…" warningly.  
  
"Okay, I promise Squid. Now what's going on?"  
  
He eyes me suspiciously for a moment more before diving into the subject that he wanted to talk about. "So, you know that Sturgis was back in town for a few nights a couple nights ago right?". I had been invited to go with them, but had had to work late that night. I had really wanted to go with them too. After Sturgis's submariner's urge had returned him to the sea last year, we had rarely gotten chances to get back together.  
  
I give Harm an "Uh- huh", still confused. My senses are all out of whack after the things that just happened. Why the hell is he talking about Sturgis? Unless…  
  
"And we went to a bar. Ya know, had a couple drinks and stuff. But Sturgis must have had more than a couple because he was plastered by the end of the night. So we got to talking about old times. Catching up and stuff…"  
  
Oh no. He didn't.  
  
"And he asked me if I had a girlfriend yet. When I told him that I didn't, he related a very interesting conversation to me that the two of you had…"  
  
He wouldn't. I made him swear.  
  
"… a couple years ago in your office…"  
  
He did.  
  
"… where you said that you loved me."  
  
Note to self – kill Navy Commander Sturgis Turner.  
  
Harm's looking at me intently now. All I can do is do is open my mouth soundlessly a few times. I'm sure that I'm doing one hell of a good fish impression right about now. He's still talking.  
  
"I need to know Sarah." The sound of my name from his lips melts my heart. "Do you still feel that way?" His voice drops to a conspiracal whisper, "Because I do."  
  
My entire life has been based on a system where you have to think before you speak. As a girl, I always had to be cautious when talking to my father. In the Marines, speak out of line and your six gets nailed. And as a lawyer, a slip of one word (forgetting to say 'not' in front of 'guilty' or asking a witness questions that will make it seem like you're attacking them) can screw you over. For the first time in my life, I replied without thinking, without taking one single millisecond to ponder the possible outcomes and consequences.  
  
"Yes." Oh yea, that's a big HELL YES!  
  
Before the word has even completely died from my lips, he has closed the space between us, seeking my lips with his. He pushes his mouth firmly against mine in a chaste yet still unbelievably passionate kiss. We break apart and I can taste the saltiness of the tears that I hadn't even been aware that I'd been crying. I look into his eyes and see that he too has the hints of tears. He pulls back, setting his head onto the pillow next to mine, and smiles broadly. This time, there are no reservations in his grin. He picks up my hand with his and begins to play with the fingers, tracing their outlines with his own digits.  
  
"So, what now Jarhead?" He asks fondly.  
  
"Well," I reply, returning his smile, "It has not yet been proven beyond a reasonable doubt that you have upheld your end of the deal."  
  
His grin widens as he gets into the game, "Excuse me Counselor. Are you doubting my ability to fulfill my promise?"  
  
I shrug and plaster an innocent look on my face. Harm shakes his head, chuckling. "Well then," he says, a sneaky smile spreading across his face, "If at first you don't succeed…"  
  
He reaches out and grabs me around the waist, pulling his own body over until he is once again on top of me. Oh yea, if at first you don't succeed try, try, try, try, try, try, and try again.  
  
And indeed we shall. 


	8. Epilogue

EPILOGUE  
  
  
  
I'm sure that if Mac were awake right now, she could probably tell me the exact time down to the minute that it is right now. As things are though, my Marine is sleeping soundly beside me. Some time during the night (after bouts two, three, four, and five of lovemaking) we had ended up spooned against one another with her body pushed firmly against my stomach and my arms wrapped possessively around her. I didn't think that Marines could sleep so soundly. Aren't they trained sleep lightly and attack at the slightest sound? Perhaps Mac missed that lesson or something. But that's fine with me. I'd rather not have her try to put a Kung Fu Grip of Death on me tonight. I think that that would kinda spoil the mood.  
  
I reach my one hand up and brush a rogue lock of her hair back to behind her ear. She smiles in her sleep and I can't help but smile slightly along with her. Wanting to add to her grin, I trail my fingers lightly along the side of her body, tracing the slight swell of the side of her breast, down the slope of her waist, back up to her hips, and continuing to her thighs and… hello, what is this?  
  
I can see a mark on her lower back, low down in the center on her tailbone. My hand stops it's journey and instead comes to rest on the feature. What is that? I crane my head, trying to make it out in the semi darkness. I don't want to move her and wake her up. And I certainly can't put on a light. The faint light from a street lamp trickles in through the window and I move myself away just enough to be able to see the mark. She shivers at the sudden absence of my body heat and curls herself tighter into a fetal position.  
  
Oh my God. I can't believe it. I have found the mysterious tattoo. And it has to be a sign.  
  
Smiling, I pull myself back to her, nuzzling my face against the crook of her neck. She's still sound asleep and her gentle rythmic breathing soon lulls me back toward sleep. I breathe deeply, smelling only her. I can taste the warm flesh of her neck against my mouth. I can feel the beat of her heart and the rise and fall of her back against my chest. I know that I'll be able to do this tomorrow. And probably the day after that and the day after that. But for now, I only think of the present. I only think of her.  
  
My hand that had been tracing her back glides back over to rest on her stomach, flat and smooth. The stomach that may or may not be currently holding our child. Our child. I hadn't even thought about becoming a father. Not that I don't want to. And to be the father of a child with Mac was even more unbelievable. I press one more kiss to her neck and whisper, "Goodnight Sarah."  
  
She mutters something incoherently and falls silent again. I begin to fall asleep and the vision of the rose tattooed on her lower back reassures me. It has to be a sign. In the end, things will come together if they are meant to. Years ago, back in that rose garden, I would never have thought that I'd be here now. Yet here I am. Some people don't believe in Fate. Others do believe and think that we are all just pawns, used by Fate in the way that She intends us to be used. They believe that we have no control over our own lives and destiny. But if Fate can bring two people from a meeting in the Rose Garden to this, then I am more than willing to be a pawn in whatever game that She's playing. Because in the end, Fate defines Destiny. And now I've found mine.  
  
It's all good.  
  
  
  
  
  
FIN  
  
Finally! Didja like it? Hate it? Didn't care one way or the other? 


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